


A Way Out

by fandomshaveruinedme



Series: Adjusting With You [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archivist Jonathan Sims, Eventual Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Eye Gouging, Eye Trauma, Hurt Jonathan Sims, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Season 4 AU, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence is the Eye Gouging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomshaveruinedme/pseuds/fandomshaveruinedme
Summary: Martin has abandoned Jon for Peter Lukas. Jonathan Sims has nobody for him at the Archives, but he has a way out. He doesn't have to be a monster anymore. One way or another it will end.This is an AU I wrote where Jon went through with attempting to leave the Archives by removing his eyes.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: Adjusting With You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832053
Comments: 11
Kudos: 292





	A Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me while I was sitting at work, so I quickly wrote some stuff down, and then typed it all out in, like, two days. 
> 
> Please heed the tags if that stuff triggers you then please don't read.

“That’s why you came to me, isn’t it? You want a reason to not do those things so- you come to me. I can’t follow you on this one.” 

Martin, the only reason that Jon woke up, the only reason Jon came back to these godforsaken archives, had turned him away. It was the fact that Martin had rejected, the fact that he chose Peter and The Lonely over Jon, that made him run into the kitchen a few days after that dreadful conversation, and grab a butter knife from the cabinet. 

He walked back to his office, trying to avoid suspicion, should he run into anyone. He wasn’t going to run into anyone though, because nobody cared. Oh, Basira and Daisy watched him, but just to make sure he wasn’t feeding on innocents anymore. It was easy actually, to make it back to his office and shut the door behind him. 

With shaking hands, The Archivist removed his glasses, and pointed the knife towards his eye. Martin was the one he wanted, and Martin didn’t want him. Whether he lived or died, it made no difference, there was nothing left for him anywhere. 

It was as these thoughts swirled through The Archivist's brain that he jerked his hand forward, felt the searing pain as the knife connected with the soft tissue of his eye, twisting his wrist to make sure nothing was salvageable before doing the same with his left eye. Warm blood oozed down his face, as he screamed and screamed curling up in a ball on the floor. His hands clawed as his eyes as The Archivist wept red tears. It felt as though his entire being was alight as his connection with The Eye was brutally severed, and then, laying in an ever growing puddle of blood, The Archivist ceased to be. 

*******************

Martin was having an okay day, all things considered. He was casually sitting in his office, staring at the stack of business cards sitting on his desk. Assistant to Peter Lukas. It wasn’t like Martin didn’t want to be with Jon, he just had to save the word, his world, Jon. 

It was as he was sitting at his desk, thinking of Jon, he heard a blood curdling scream, a scream he remembered from the vicious worm attack. Jon; Martin’s heart leapt into his throat and he jumped up from his chair and began to sprint to Jon’s office. 

He was the first one to arrive outside of the Head Archivists office, but he could see Basira and Daisy running together and Melanie behind them. Martin shoved open the door, expecting to see one of the Entities attacking, instead, he saw nothing. He still heard Jon screaming, however, which prompted Martin to run behind Jon’s desk, where he stumbled upon the worst sight imaginable. 

Jon was curled up on the floor, one hand wrapped around his head, the other clawing at his face. His eyes were closed, but Martin could see blood weeping out from under them and creating bloody tear tracks down Jon’s face. His hair, which Martin had always wanted to run his hands through, was splayed out on the floor, soaked with blood as well. 

Martin heard the others gasp as they took in the grisly sight before them, before he heard Basira take out her phone and call an ambulance. 

He dropped to his knees besides Jon and carefully cradled his head in his lap. Jon, for his part, went limp in Martin's arms. 

“Oh god, Jon,” Martin gasped “what did- why did you do this?” Jon didn’t respond. 

“Help will be here in five minutes,” Basira said turning to Martin. 

“Please, Jon, help will be here soon. I need you to hold on.” All thoughts of remaining alone, of not getting attached, vanished from Martins mind as he held the frail and shaking Jon in his arms. 

Jon was short by normal male standards, but curled up on the floor in Martins arms, he was positively tiny. Martin watched as Jon slowly tilted his head towards Martin's chest, smearing blood on his pants. 

“M-Martin?” Jon choked out, his voice raw from screaming. 

“Yes Jon, I’m here. Please just stay awake.” 

“ Mm glad you’re here. I-I have smthin to say.” Jon moved his hand so it was resting against Martin's cheek. Martin leaned into the touch, tears blurring his vision as he took in Jon's mutilated face. 

“Martin, I-“ and then, Jon's hand dropped from Martins cheek, limp. 

“Jon? Jon! Pleasepleaseplease,” Martin reached for the hand that was cupping his face, and clutched it hard. Emotions he tried so hard to suppress surged forward, and Martin shriveled up over Jon's body, as though he could shield him from further harm, body heaving with sobs. 

Jon was forcefully pulled from his arms, and Martin jerked in surprise. When he looked up, he was surprised to see the paramedics bustling around the small office. When had they arrived? Martin heard one of the paramedics begin to shout “he’s coding!” as they loaded Jon onto a stretcher and rushed him away. 

Martin doesn’t know how long he had been kneeling in the puddle of Jon’s blood. Minutes? Hours? Time didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered besides Jon, who was currently dying. 

Martin was snapped out of his thoughts by a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll give you a lift to the hospital, yeah?” Daisy asked. Martin nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He stood slowly, mindful of the blood staining his pants, his shirt, and his hands. Daisy dragged Martin over to the toilet, and made sure he washed his hands before going and grabbing some of the spare clothes that each member of the Archives kept there just in case. While washing up, Martin casually moved his gaze upward, looking at himself in he mirror. He was covered in blood. Jons blood. The most defining part? The handprint that was painted on his cheek. Each finger carefully defined against Martins pale skin. He moved one hand so that it rested on the bloody print. Jons hands are so small, thought Martin. He rubbed at his eyes before quickly splashing water on his face and wiping off Jons print.

Once he was somewhat presentable, Martin let himself be led to Daisy's car, and together they drove to the hospital. 

*********************

Waiting room chairs were incredibly uncomfortable. Martin had been sitting in one for god knows how long, and his entire body ached. Soon after him and Daisy had arrived at the hospital, Georgie and Melanie burst into the room, eyes frantically scanning the people in the chairs. Once she spotted him, Georgia grabbed Melanie's hand, and walked over. She opened her mouth, but Martin gave a soft shake of his head and she closed it again before sitting down in the chairs next to him and Daisy. 

After what felt like an eternity, a nurse walked into the waiting room and spoke, 

“Family of Jonathan Sims?” 

Martin shot up and flagged the nurse over to the party. 

“Mr. Sims is currently being kept sedated, but should be allowed to wake up soon. His injuries were extensive, and he coded a few times both in the ambulance and on the operating table. We’re not exactly sure why his heart stopped, but we assume it was from blood loss. We’re allowing one visitor at a time.” 

Georgie gave Martin a gentle shove, and whispered “go on, he’ll want to se-” she cut herself off, the reality of the situation sinking in. “He’ll want you to be around the most.” Martin didn’t even try to protest, he just followed the nurse through the ICU and into Jon's room. 

Martin had sworn to himself that he would never see Jon in a hospital bed again. Everything he did for Peter Lukas was so that Jon wouldn’t be in danger, so that Jon wouldn’t die again. Now, here he was again, waiting to see if Jon would wake up. 

Jon’s hair had been washed, making sure there was no more blood staining the black and silver strands which were haloed around his head. A white bandage had been wrapped around Jon’s eyes, hiding the severity of the damage, which Martin was grateful for. His only signs of life were the steady beeping of the heart monitor in the corner, and the soft rise and fall of Jon’s chest. 

Hesitantly, Martin reached out and took Jon’s hand in his own, sitting down in the chair next to his hospital bed. The weight of the events that had transpired finally catching up with him, and Martin slipped into a dreamless sleep, hunched over Jon’s prone form. 

Martin jerked away, his back barking in protest of the uncomfortable sleep position. Looking around, Martin noticed a nurse had come to check up on Jon, and turned to Martin noticing he was awake. 

“I just have a few questions about your husband, if that’s alright with you?” Martin sputtered in response but shook his head yes. 

“I noticed that Mr. Sims has many circular scars scattered everywhere around his body and now with the eye incident, we’re wondering if he needs to be put on suicide watch? Were all of these self-inflicted wounds?” 

“N-no! No. Jon was attacked by worm… things a couple years ago, hence the circles, and then he was in an explosion and he’s been kidnapped a few times, oh and there was that time he had a knife to his throat and,” Martin was aware he was rambling, but he just couldn’t help himself. 

“The- the eye wounds are from somebody who broke into the Archives who thought that if he… uh… cut out the eyes of the Head Archivists… a curse on him would end. I know, delusional right? But we get a lot of those at the Archives. It's a very dangerous job.” 

The nurse nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer filled out Jon’s medical chart, and left Martin alone in the room once again. 

*************************

It has been two days since Jon was admitted to the hospital, and Martin hadn’t left his side. The Lonely beckoned to him, calling him into it’s unfeeling embrace, but Martin couldn’t leave Jon, not like this. 

He was idly sitting in his usual chair next to the bed, a book of poetry in one hand, a cup of half drunk tea on the counter, and his other hand encircling Jon’s. He hardly let go of it anymore. 

It was so subtle, Martin almost didn’t feel it at first. Just a small twitch of Jon’s fingers in his hand. Martin held his breath, waiting for something else to happen, and it did. Slowly, Jon’s hand tightened around his own. 

“-artin?” Jon asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. 

“Yes, Jon, I’m here.” He reached over and held a glass of water up to Jon’s lips, allowing him a few small sips before pulling the cup away and allowing Jon to speak. 

“I can’t see?” 

“Jon, what do you remember last?” Jon sat for a moment, as though thinking back to his last thoughts before he closed his eyes for, what he thought, would be the last time. 

“Oh. Right. Well, I can't See anything either, so I think it worked.” 

“Jon you bloody idiot. I had a plan, and you just went ahead and-and you almost died, and I was almost completely alone again.” Martin felt his emotions fly forward.

“Martin, you were the only person I had left who thought I wasn’t a monster, and then you left. I decided I would just rid the world of another unwanted monster.” 

As Jon spoke, Martin felt his eyes start to burn. He had been planning to hand over his confession tapes to Jon after he stopped The Extinction, he didn’t really consider how Jon would see things. 

“Jon, I swore I would never see you in another hospital bed, I- don’t you know I-” Martin struggled to form the words. 

“I love you,” Jon whispered, turning his head away from where he thought Martin was sitting. “I have for a long time. I tried to remain professional, seeing as I’m your boss, but after the explosion and Tim, I thought I would tell you, but you weren’t there.” 

Martin sat for a minute, letting the words sink in, and then he gently moved his hand to cup Jon’s jaw, and guided Jon’s lips to his. 

“I love you too,” Martin said when they finally pulled away. “We’re going to figure this out together, okay?” Jon nodded and then slowly scooted over, making room for Martin in the small hospital bed. 

Carefully, Martin climbed next to Jon, and curled up against his side before moving his hand to find Jon’s again. 

“Oh, by the way,” Martin said, tilting his face towards Jon, “the nurses think we’re married.” Jon hummed in response and pulled Martin closer the first smile he’s had in months gracing his soft features.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about making this into a series of blind Jon and Martin trying to figure out life together since Martin is still tied to the Archives. Let me know what you think!


End file.
